Saturday, the pain we beyond belief. Coffee had to poke a few holes in my skin around the pressure wound to relieve the pain caused by dead blood.

By Sunday, I was getting used to living with the pain and starting to worry I’d have to wind up at a doctor to have a scalpel open up the area. That would entail a long, long recover, and I just can’t just afford that now. But, while washing dishes, the weakened skin opened and the wound we were trying to heal opened up a wealth of puss and blood. O, lovely puss!. The process of healing could now begin.

I stayed home from work today, letting the wound seep. The stench of infection is gone, and the whole area is now healing. The only problem is that I must now have towels everywhere I want to sit, like an incontinent old dog.

The real victim here is not me, but Coffee. She waited for the Super Happy Family Fun Weekend for two weeks and wound up squeezing puss from her wisecracking, probably dying idiot boyfriend. I feel really bad about that.

My behind hurts so much. So very much. Looks like I’m developing a new pressure sore, probably from overcompensating for the original extra butthole.

I’m taking Zinc, and I’ve finally admitted that I need Metformin, so I’m stealing Coffee’s. At least I’ve started my sugar-fee diet today. I got a very simple egg sandwich on wheat and I ate my bran today. Beats the hell out of adding bacon and ketchup.

Just saw Surveillance, Jennifer Lynch’s return to the big screen. It sucked. I mean, it would have been good if it were twenty years ago. Jennifer Lynch simply copied her father David Lynch’s style from about a quarter century ago and then tried to make a surprise twist at the end. Unfortunately, I anticipated the twist the first few minutes into the movie.

Movie twists get weaker and weaker as the years pass since the Sixth Sense. I’ve decided to pitch to Hollywood my own plots that have super twists that no one is going to see coming.

Story 1Ten strangers are invited to a haunted mansion by it’s creepy owner. He offers anyone who can spend the night a million dollars. The owner locks them all in and then one by one they are attacked by what appears to be ghosts. Eight of the guests end up dying. Only the hero and his girlfriend survive. The find that the creepy mansion owner is actually behind all the murders, and the supernatural attacks were all faked. They kill the mansion owner and then escape the building, finding themselves in the light of a new day. But it turns out… they were trapped in the White House and they just killed the President!

Story 2
A man and his wife spend years fixing up a brownstone in an changing neighborhood in an unnamed city. The wife goes away on a business trip, leaving her husband alone. He finds that rats are gnawing through is beautifully restored building and eating everything in sight. They chew through walls, the back of cabinets, and through doors. He engages the rats in a battle of wits, and the rats we discover are unusually intelligent. He turns his brownstone into a battlefield and wins a pyrrhic victory against the rats when he kills the young and their hulking mother. Upon inspection, he finds that… the rats were actually an illegal immigrant Mexican woman and her children!

Story 3
A soccer team is stuck in a disabled airplane. They are hungry and cold. They alpha males amongst them plot on how to survive and decide to eat the weaker team members. In the cramped confines of a commerical jet, they kill their teammates, one by one. Eventually the group splits into two groups, one with our protagonist and one with our antagonist. Moral issues arise about how many to kill, or whether to continue killing. Eventually, the antagonist and the protagonist battle to the death after the demise of their groups, leaving only the protagonist surrounded by enough corpses to last the winter and then some. However, at the moment of his victory, the airplane door opens and… we learn that the plane had been grounded for three hours for de-icing is now ready to fly to Florida!.

Great! Now I got a hole in my butt. No, not that hole. Another hole that’s not supposed to be there.

See, when you’re a big fat slob, and you’re practically made out of sugar, your skin gets real thin. So thin that it starts to break down, or get yeast infections.

You’d think that having more cushion for pushing would help prevent skin breakdown on one’s butt. No, in fact the whole butt thing just gets worse.

Best I can tell, I must have developed a pressure sore. The skin gets rubbed, crushed, and then white blood cells try the fix the problem the only way they know how; by eating anything they find. More and more white blood cells show up for the fight against this phantom invader, and wind up eating each other and the body’s own skin. Eventually, the area gets how and the the skin gets thin and then, pop.

It was a little pop, nothing I noticed. But now it’s not healing, and there’s a shaft leading from the surface of my body to my innards. Left untreated, the shaft could get deeper and deeper until I develope a viewing window into my pelvis.

It smarts a bit. Coffee is working her medical magic on it. We’ll see if I wind up getting a quick cure or a ticket to a nursing home, on my belly.

First one: I’m having a smoke out in back of my office when this guy rounds the corner. I’ve seen him before. He’s clearly gay and femmy. I looked up at his face out of reflex when he passed by me. The look he was giving back was amazing.

Imagine that Felix the Cat clock, the one with its eyes turned completely to one side, the the other. That’s what his eyes were doing, and on the rest of his face was a look of please don’t kill me, you’re an ugly troll.

WTF dude? I’m weird? I’m not the guy walking around like there’s a stick up his butt and his wrists are broken while wearing a freakin’ purse!

Second story: I was going over some work stuff in the office of one my my opposite numbers. She’s is a very cute chubby girl of South American decent, young and full of energy, very engaging, and many IQ levels above me. This makes her very attractive. Making her exceptionally attractive today was that she was hanging her generous breasts out of a very loose top.

I kept looking at her breasts. I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t undo a million years of evolution during our meeting. I was like a cat, ready to pounce on two plump mice. So, I did what any mature man twenty years her senior would do; I shut my eyes.

That’s right, I went over her work problems with her with my eyes screwed shut. I figured that she’d assume I was thinking really hard. Actually, I was trying not to get hard.

I have a recurring tooth problem that could be easily solved by yanking the cantankerous mother. I’ve resisted though since I can usually get the infection to go away with a blast of antibiotics. Once the dentist pulls your tooth, you’re under the gun to replace it or wind up with your teeth spaced like a jack o’ lantern.

Also, I’ve got some weird problem with my right foot. I’ve injured it bad driving; some kind of repetitive strain injury. Between the tooth hurting at the top of my body, and my foot hurting at the bottom, I’m literally squeezed by pain.

Until I discovered this new magic bullet; oxycodone.

It takes away the pain and replaces it with happy feelings.

All Friday, Saturday and Sunday I just had a nice happy oxycodone experience. Tooth pain, gone. Foot pain, a thing of the past. Coordination and judgment control, out the window.

Nice.

I’m kind disappointed that this morning I woke up without the pains, and now I don’t have an excuse to take it.